


The Menace

by Shyllelagh



Category: Invisible Inc. (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-03-13 14:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyllelagh/pseuds/Shyllelagh
Summary: Uneasy tension stirs between the Corporations of the late 21st century.





	1. Unforseen Consequences

The Menace

Shopcat stretched and yawned, her eyes slowly drooping as the holodisplay to the side of her ticked with a calming, rhythmic beat. She liked to keep that clock around. It reminded her of the antiquarian old grandfather clock lying near the garbage skip she used to sleep next to. The old wooden thing had lost its loud bells but she like the repetitive pattern. She still does.  
Old times. Past times.  
The holodisplay showed 02.02.56 hours.  
02.03.00 hours.  
02.03.04.  
02.03.07.  
Everything was peacefully quiet.  
She stretched a bit more, and scratched her side.  
The two monitors in front of her were dim, just as she liked it, and showed lines and lines of blurring code, internet ports and protocol addresses. The bowl of Tuna pellets next to it was half-eaten and, for some reason, smelled vaguely of cheese. Shopcat sniffed a bit more as she traced her paw along the coffee marks on the old table. This shell of a building used to be a civilian-grade family dwelling in Old Pittsburgh- or it was a Halsing electronical storage facility, abandoned after they were liquidated by FTM. She doesn't quite remember, and doesn't particularly care.  
A message popped up, signalling multiple high-level net connections in the K&O web that she might be interested in.  
She wasn't. 

Her nose twitched, and her craving for catnip grew stronger by the minute. Hmmm. Perhaps she still has a few boxes of catnip around the back. She imagined that glorious, golden, sweet-smelling goodness that-  
Stop. You have to finish that thing you started.  
She Scratched herself once again, and turned her attention back to her little pet project that she was working on, nearly done as evident by the lines of code, lined up upon the holodisplay like rows of pawns positioned on a chessboard. That code was her pawns all right. She chuckled, reached over to her bowl of faux-tuna, and gobbled some chunks up.  
She kind of missed roaming the streets. Another of those messages appeared, only to be promptly closed.  
Half-heartedly she tapped in a few more bits of programming on her keyboard, and started to scratch herself again.

That first time she tried catnip, she was in clouds and rainbows. It's this miraculous feeling that humans will never understand; it is a fleeting, elated, ecstatic moment, one of pleasure and satisfaction, one o-  
She wanted catnip.  
Now.  
NO!  
No!  
Stop thinking about the catnip!  
As if great chains bound her to her kitty seat, she sighed as well as cat could possibly sigh and turned back to her project.

Another one of the messages popped up. This was unusual. Hmmm. Is something big going on over with those weapon-obsessed vikings?  
She closed her coding window, and started to scroll through the list of pulsing signals received via the transponders attached to the roof of her house, and after tapping on a few commands, the slight humming of the masses of electronical equipment to her side told her that her trackers were up and running.  
Click-click-click-click went the mouse's scroller wheel under her paws - she'd renamed it to the KITTY just for laughs.  
Lines and lines of addresses went by, with the ticking of the clock calming and soothing her all the while.  
0E-1A-0A-B6-5E-77 was likely the bit where the activity was happening - whatever it was. It connected directly to 41-A3-C5-1D-D2-3A and 02-DF-28-4C-AA-3A, both of which were main server terminals in K&O headquarters, and the signals were as loud and clear as day.  
Curiouser and curiouser. Every time this happened they were much more subtle - but nothing evades Shopcat. There must be something big that got those corporate bastards so riled up.  
Their SSD-ware and the custom installed AGC sidechain was unbalanced, and to bypass the shields and take a tiny peek at whatever got K&O so excited was easier than taking morsels of food from mice. Shopcat liked to take morsels of food from mice. Shopcat missed taking morsels of food from mice. Shopcat wanted to take morsels of food from mice - or at least someone or something.  
She rubbed her paws, licked them clean, and prepared to have a bit of fun.  
She was Shopcat, after all.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Standard encryption was bypassed without a hitch.  
The shields that K&O have are just plain embarrassing to be honest, although Shopcat supposes that those silly humans could never do anything properly.  
And of course, 'password123' works every single time.  
Oh, K&O, why even try.  
She leaned back and stretched more as she waited for the few final layers of what K&O called a 'shield' to fall to simple brute-force decryption.

The imperceptible roar of a vehicular transporter, raced past, far away, near the transportways.  
Soft, ivory light from the moon shone lightly through the open window as the Monroeville chill blew in.  
She scratched herself once more as the monitors displayed lines of imperceptible characters zip by.  
The night was silent.  
Shopcat sniffed again, and smelled the cheese again- nope. The cheese smell didn't come from the bowl. It came from her. Unsurprising, considering that she hasn't washed in a few days, and her coat was matted and looked like she had begun to live outside again. Perhaps that's where the scratching came from. She hoped that she didn't catch fleas again- god that was annoying.  
She hadn't seen the Wildman for a few weeks either. She hoped that he hadn't been caught or captured or anything like that, because if he was, who would be there to bring Shopcat her catnip and play chess with her? She missed the Wildman of Monroeville. He brought a little bit of fun, a little bit of unpredictability, a bit of that old life of hers, into this new one.  
A simple close of a address window told her clearly that all was set for a man-in-the-middle peek.

She didn't hide it. She was excited. Properly excited, for the first time in quite a while.

Streams and streams of information flew in via the invisible lines that connect the world. It started to pile itself onto the monitors, with Shopcat watching and speed-reading all that data, all that information as it brushed by with lighting speed.  
Lines and lines of knowledge, useful and useless, valuable and worthless; company details, financial information, transactional credits, source codes, foundry blueprints, building layouts, and... the boatload. A live holovid feed. Direct to the Lead Product Communications Architect, the Human Implementation Liaison, the Chief Data Associate, or whoever stuck-up corporate executive was watching this.  
A paw reached over to the tuna nibbles, and another tapped the enter key.  
The holofeed sprung up in a window. The footage was high in definition, but unsteady; and judging by the shakiness, it seems like someone was carrying the camera on a shoulder height and sprinting.  
Shopcat could make out the shapes of men, in heavy gear, all helmeted and armed with rifles, sprinting as one, down a long corridor flanked by ominous doors.  
They were in a facility. By the looks of the wear, relatively new, and in typical K&O fashion, the architecture was militaristic, traditional, and almost brutalist. Angular, with no regard for aesthetic other than the occasional shield hanging, stuffed head, or sword upon the wall. 

Not more than 20 meters or so ahead of the filmed men were another group of heavily armed enforcers, kneeling around a double set of doors to the left.  
Sound symbols indicated that there went on some commotion, and Shopcat leapt for her headphones.  
There were explosions. Loud gunshots rang out, echoing amongst the enclosed space.  
Chatter on the coms were confusing and chaotic.  
Shopcat turned up the volume, and listened closely.

"Set for Operation Xavier. Ready-" 

"-versteht mich jemand-"

More gunshots.

"-anybody tell me what is going on h-"

"-Faen ta deg! Hvo-"

An ear-splitting scream cuts through the air, unknown whether male or female made such cursed a sound. 

"Where in the fucking world are the insurgents? Why a-"

"Breaching in 5, 4-"

"-where is Major Klei-"

BOOM.

A loud, hollow, explosion piereced Shopcat's ears. She recognised that sound. A breaching charge. 

The scene on the monitor flashed with a blinding bright light, with many of the men stopping, shielding their eyes.  
The doors on the left of the corridor flew backwards into the room as a detonation flared near the enforcers, who have now backed up.  
Shopcat stares as the enforcers turn, raise their Longhunter Rifles, and aim into the room unknown.

Plasma casing after casing tumble to the smooth concrete floor.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[K&O SECURITY SUBSECTION #3 Southern Iberia:Gibraltar | Inquisition Transcript #A349-665-23a Section #2]

{Extract authorised by Major Klein, Aleksandr Gamen, ID #20304}

:The # (hash) symbol denotes sections which require additional clearance.:  
:The * (asterisk) symbol denotes notes inserted after the inquisition.:

JMdR for additional information

AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY

#

M: [silence]

H: There is a lot that we haven't had the pleasure of knowing.

C: I'm sure we've love to. (sic) 

M: Sure as we all do.

H: We've done this many times. To people that you knew. To people that you don't.

H: [cough]

C: How would you like to go about this?

M: [light chuckle]

C: I'm guessing that that is a positive affirmation for the hard way?

*suspect attempts to speak but does not respond

H: Well we'll make this quick.

M: What next?

H: I think it's pretty self-evident, do you think it not?

[sounds of struggling and rustling]

*suspect once again attempts to break free from the bonds but with and evident lack of success

C: Let's get this over with.

[prolonged silence lasting roughly 1/6ths of a minute]

M: Up yours, you fucking gobshites.

#

C: It's a- it's at 54.988885, -7.340264.

H: Where is that? Belfast?

C: Uhhh- no. Derry, Westlondonderry, Cityside.

C: Should we #

#

H: No, no; check if the signal is bounced.

C: Can't tell from this distance.

K: Greetings gentlemen. 

C: Greetings Major Klein.

H: Salutations Sasha.

K: How goes everything? 

H: No breakthroughs as of the moment.

K: That's well then. The Top has informed us to suspend the investigation indefinitely. 

C: Is something of the matter?

* #

K: I don't know. But it is best to follow.

H: Very well then. 

H: Ensign Cortilla and I will resume our duties. 

#

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]

[DO NOT COPY OR REPRODUCE THIS WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION OR AUTHORISATION IN ANY MANNER]

SectCode: QKi-Meo-G8V-LZn-5Fp

[END OF (Inquisition Transcript #A349-665-23a Section #2) ]

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wine was rich and soft, with a twinge of spice.

Alcázar García clenched the crystal goblet with long, slender fingers and swirled the incarnadine crimson liquid within.

The vintage was from Mendoza, a Merlot, kept 23 months. A gift from Pujol. Good enough, he supposed.

The sun's rays brushed over him from the front, early evening warmth brushing over him, his finery, and room circling him, encompassing Alcázar, wrapping him in folds of affection and the embrace of the sun.

He was fond of this penthouse, especially this conservatory. The crystalline floor on which he stood allowed him to see far into the clouds beneath. The sunroom extended out from the main building itself facing due west, supported by naught. The walls, and the doors that lead to the central building behind him were smooth and unassuming, but the clarity all around him enabled him to be enveloped by the high sky and clouds. 

He settled within the singular feature placed within the solarium, a sharp and polished lounge chair of burnished marble, set within the centre of the room, facing towards where the sun descends.

Half-down the far horizons of the Pacific sea, the fiery star glanced nigh indiscernible ripples upon the deep sea and the island of San Lorenzo, almost unobservable at this height so great and the cloudy obstruction.

The sky was streaked with mauve, scarlet and tangerine- blending exquisitely with the pang of the wine.

A slight echo of a ping within in his head implantations indicated a signal.

Good. He had been waiting since morning. With a finger he gently tapped his earlobe. "Buenas tardes. García de Plastech Cibermédico hablando."

"Hey Alcázar."

"Ahhhh, good hearing your voice, Charlie. How is Oran?"

"Works I guess."

"Is everything working alright?" García heard a rough cough on the other side of the chat as he gently scratched his beard. 

"Yeah, everything should be set."

"Are the men happy with the accommodation?"

"Oh certainly Mr. García. Spirits seem high-"

"Good."

"-As long as the alcohol, the credits and the rub keeps flowing."

Both men shared a collective chuckle over the amusing nature of hired help.

"So, dear Charlie, are all of you set for Wednesday night?"

"Oh quite so Sir."

There was a crash in the background of the other side. "How were Farkas and the Gunrunners? Nothing but pleasant I hope."

"Nothing major."

"Then I wish all of the best. Fingers crossed."

"Thank you Mr. García- is the arrangement is confirmed?"

"Yes."

"Well I wish you a good night sir."

"I wish the men a good Wednesday as well."

Alcázar García stood up, finished what liquid was left in his glass, and slowly departed the sunroom.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The arm felt itchier than normal.   
Dr. Tony Xu stretched, and scratched it with light vigour.  
The jet sped silent and swift towards its destination, with the occasional tremor as it split the silent night sky.

It was 3 in the morning. 

Decker sat opposite, smelling vaguely of alcohol and smokesticks... god knows how central even dragged him on this mission. You don't want to see Brian when his blood-alcohol ratio reaches higher levels. He was snoring. Loudly.  
Nika sat to the left. She seemed to be dozing off too.   
The jet rumbled once more. Sharp wasn't a great driver, but he got them into this mess; and he will get them out, too. Xu spotted an empty beige Budweiser bottle, leaking liquid, roll to the left in his peripheral as the vessel listed to the side in the chill over the Mediterranean. Ever since K&O installed air-orbital guardians in the Alps it made flying over Central Europe and the Pyrenees a risk best not taken. It made trips slightly longer, having to avoid that anti-air security zone, but spending a little more time going places is worth not ending up in pieces over the Swiss Alps plummeting to the ground. 

They were almost there anyways. The plan was simple, the usual extraction, but only with a bit more security and a few more men to deal with.   
They'd hit K&O in Gibraltar multiple times in the past already. This time wasn't going to be much different.

Tony wondered how it was like in the European detention centres. Not nice, that was for sure, but he was still intrigued. How did they look like? Uninteresting likely. Were there tools for the extraction of information? Definitely. How easy was it to crack the SecGrd? Not too hard, perh- yeah, they probably wouldn't be much different to the ones in Perth. Bureaucratic, dogmatic creed usually led to authoritarian, restrictive and boring things. He definitely remembered the time when he first stepped into that bland grey room. It was cold and definitely not fun. With great irony he chuckled; Central was definitely going to have some words with Sharp when they return. At least Alex was nice enough to always have something fun that he was working on, which Xu had loose in his pocket, alongside his trusty shock trap. It was an 'enhanced' Hearghra K&O snubnose derringer plasma; based on the 2C Makarov, which was redesigned from the Pistolet Makarov in 2050, outlawed in 2057, acquired by K&O in 2061, and been a corporate security sidearm since the mid 60s. For this special little peashooter however, Sharp really let loose. The clip was completely rehoused for an additional pack, enabling a new matrix interception point, and the barrel was bored to accommodate for larger core-rounds. There was also the resonance, which was tuned to level the fields, in addition to shortening of the handle and the concealment of the backhammer. In layman's terms, it was deadlier, easier to hide, and according to Sharp, 'it was much more fun'. McTeague was a genius, no doubt, but Tony was just slightly concerned with what goes on inside that electronic mind of his. Oh, also the gun had a tiny chance of detonating the moment the user pulled the trigger. The funny thing with K&O was that they often retain their-

Muratova tapped him awake, her crystal voice shattering the stupor of clear thought.

"We've arrived. Prepare for positioning."

Tony blinked and looked around. Out the window, he could tell that the jet was on standby, hovering in the South District, in the midst of high-rises and skyscrapers that nigh scrapes the deep night sky. Their target was a concrete block that sat on The Rock of Gibraltar, amongst other towers and superstructures, with the K&O logo projected across one of the blank faces of the colourless concrete block. Gibraltar had changed much since the 2030s. The Rock has been blanketed in row after row of offices and advertising, and from the air above, the (still) British Overseas Territory was a huddled bunch of concrete pines juxtaposed with the (relatively) rural Southern Iberian Coastline.

Decker groaned and rubbed his face. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Decker breaks it and puts on his fedora... or is that a trilby? Doesn't matter. Decker dresses funny.  
McTeague stepped in to the hold from the cockpit as Nika opened up storage and distributed their weapons, and handing Xu his disruptor.  
Moving over to a side panel, Sharp stuck his arm into a wall socket.

"I assume that Central has told everyone our target?" Sharp questioned with typical bluntness.

All three agents nodded along. 

"Decker, what is the target?" 

A brief moment of confusion upon Decker's face flashed with surprise and mild annoyance.

"Uh- 4th floor, detention wing. We grab her and get out."

"What K&O facility are we infiltrating?" Sharp pressed on.

"Uhmmm it's the uh, uh, Lisbon?"

"Incorrect."

Decker shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead with a wildered expression mixed with a hangover written plain on his face.

Nika turned to Sharp. "You don't need to give a shit. We just get in and get out."

McTeague snapped his head and blared at Muratova with cold, lifeless eyes of retinal cybernetics.

"Is it Gibraltar?"

Neither responded.

Tony has had enough of this. He glimpsed the holodisplay built in his arm. 03.35.09. Time was ticking. He glanced at Nika, then at Alex. "Alex, buddy, just leave him alone. Central told him to come. An extra pair of hands is always useful."

"By the way, you're the one that caused all this." Muratova snapped back at McTeague.

Tony let out an internal sigh. _Not helpful, Nika._

Sharp looked down at all of them with as much emotion as a toaster. "Let's hope the drunkard does not fail us.", and he turned and strode to the side panel, tapping in coordinates for teleportation on the wall panel.

Nika spun around, patted Decker on the back, and mouthed a silent 'thanks' at Xu.

Tony turned a darker shade of pink.

Sharp looked at all of them. "Entering teleportation in 10 seconds. ETA 13 seconds. Prepare for transportation."

He tapped his arm.

"Ten."

Decker straightened up and pulled out his disrupter.

"Nine."

The night was silent.

"Eight."

Another vehicle flew by outside.

"Seven."

Nika tested her disrupter.

"Six."

A loud crack and a spark of electricity confirmed it's active state.

"Five."

Sharp tapped a button on the holodisplay.

"Four."

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Three."

His arm still itched.

"Two."

He squeezed his eyes.

"One."

"Let's go get Banks."

A bright flash filled the interior of the jet.

As the flurry of light faded, the hold was silent.

An empty beige Budweiser bottle, leaking liquid, rolled to the very edge of the table, and toppled over the precipice, smashing into shards of brown crystal all over the jet's smooth polished floor.

Murphy is waiting.


	2. Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As trouble brews, death follows.

Charlie Cobb checked the cocking handle of the Nemeth Repeating Disposer Rifle which he held firmly in his grasp.

Everything seemed to work. Loaded, cocked, ready to fire. Blackreed made, 30 shot load. Different from the corporate elite-standard Kohnstamm-Pike 10, but the Nemeth was more common than pink dog turds and much, much easier to smuggle. Standard length 25.9 inch, 11.8 inch barrel and just under 5 pounds. 960 yard active range, 600 yard killing range. Auto spray and semi-auto, with receiver tucked behind the grip for ease of use. To his side was the Jäger OV-M, a short and stubby little beast. It had the shape of a 50s naval flare-shot, was easy to draw and holster. Single-shot top break reload. Fire it at a crowd of thugs 10 feet away, guarantee every single one of 'em never leave a MedCenter for the next 3 months. Fire it at a thug 1 foot away, turn everything from the waist up that he so dearly owned into a fine red mist.

Everything blurred dark for a moment, cloaking his vision in the ominous night.

Shit. He tapped his corneas, and green outlines of the sea and the coast re-formed in his sight, blessing him with clarity once more. His optic-augments were States military standard... about 2 or 3 decades ago. He didn't give a damn about the fancier and newer garbage his men had. A steady aim and a strong firing arm always beat and will always beat a sighting android implant every time.  
20 other or so men along with Cobb was huddled in this dinghy, speeding towards their target. Another vessel followed in tandem, filled with good men. Armed men. Paid men. Men who were willing to risk their lives for a credit-chip. All of them were armed to a great degree, and with the help Mr. García's bottomless pockets, this 43 men crew were better trained and better provisioned than hundreds of crew whom he had worked with in the past.  
The coastline advanced towards them at breakneck speed, great towers and high-rises following just behind. Like a mound, buildings dotted and sprouted up from all over the peninsula, with the superspires built upon The Rock peaking over all the others.

A silent ruffle sounded out as the two boats beached the empty, rocky South Gibraltarian shore.  
Usually this beach would be packed, but it was Wednesday midnight. Any moron that ignored the curfew would be shot on sight by the patrols. That only made their job easier.  
As the men dismounted the crafts and checked their equipment, Viren stepped up and began his scanning.

Darkness blinded Cobb once again, leaving only the hazy moonlight outline of the buildings upon The Rock. Fucking hell. Charlie gently tapped the side of his face, and the emerald silhouettes imparted him sight, his implants blinking into life.  
A gentle beep signalled that the area was clear and they were ready to move out.

"Sir, we are ready to move." Heh. That accent never failed to make him laugh.

"They did say you were mighty fine, Viren Padhi. Get the others to advance."

Padhi saluted, and Cobb turned to the mercenaries. Alert and prepared. Good.

"Ya'll ready?"

The supplied and stern men nodded.

"Then let's git 'er done."

With a brisk wave of the arm, they begun to proceed towards the target.

The night was colder than usual. They had managed to creep through the East side area undetected and scaled the east face of The Rock. The patrols were easy to avoid, but they did had to open fire on a roaming Raven Camera Surveillance drone. They did blast it with a M-M5S first, meaning the RX matrix would be down and the parsing of the primary processor meant that the K&O servers wouldn't notice the fact that a Huginn RS-3 had gone missing. Or at least that's what Padhi told him. Charlie couldn't care less about computers. He's just glad that Padhi was here to deal with all of it.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was silent.  
Darkness surrounded him.  
Ancient LE-D streetlamps from the 20s cast long, curling fingers which grasped and tore at the frayed edges of his mindscape.

The Wildman of Monroeville chortled. 

The suburban landscape around him was weathered, run down. This part of town had been abandoned for quite a while. Buildings tend to grow old and forgotten, especially after wars. The houses were once beautiful. Built in Soland Neo-Georgian style. Would have cost a fortune back then. The moon cast down some very pretty shapes. 

He slowly stood up. The eroded concrete beneath his bare feet was rough. But he had hobbit feet. Hah! Take that, asphalt. He had been traipsing and prancing around these ruins for as long as he can remember. His ragged shirt hung upon him like shreds of cloth upon a mannequin. In his left hand held a bleached and torn courier bag, the markings of the latin script of "S ate F on d y C re" nearly worn and obscured by ages of use. Inside it held some surprises and a special delivery for a special friend. In his right hand was wrapped around the half-broken handle of a portable chess set. A white knight and a black bishop had disappeared since the last time the set was used, but he was certain that a button and a rusted coin would work just fine. The crisp Monroeville breeze was refreshing yet cold, as it had always been. His scrappy, once grey coat was just fine from shielding him from the frost. 

He had forgotten how long he had been sitting here. His long thinks often made him fail to recall things around him. It's like someone turned up the noise (not the volume, the noise, as in optic-image tech. Amateurs often forgot about this) on a holovid and sped it up by 20. He groaned. His back hurt. He did not have a back like a hobbit. He felt itchy and stunk of cheese. Specifically like sbrinz from the Schwyz Canton in Switzerland. He held a fatigued arm up to his head, and ran a hand through the filthy, matted blond hair of his. He looked around. He glanced up at the moon, which hung amongst a few loose, scattered stars and three massive iron structures of men, hovering distant in the night sky. Hmmmm. Orbitals. He looked at his battered watch, fac-made. He found it in a trash can the other day. 

The two hands showed 01.43.33.  
He looked up at one of the rusting, hulking orbitals.  
His eyes glanced over to the moon.  
Numbers began to fly within his mind.  
Focused on the second orbital.  
Settled on Vlaagru, his augments helping him spot the distant star.  
Watched orbital #34 glide along in the sky with a snail's pace.  
Estimated its location.  
The timepiece displayed 01.43.48.  
The third orbital.  
77.4. 90~59.  
Roughly 3. Maybe 3.29, just to be safe.  
First orbital at 27766, B-4cridian at 8003.  
Glanced at the moon once again.

The Wildman stood calm and tranquil, in the middle of a serene, abandoned, run-down upper class neighbourhood, his eyes closed in a brief moment of thought and clarity.

He laughed. It was a loud and boisterous laugh. A laugh of bliss. A laugh of euphoria. A laugh of madness. He now knew exactly where he was, and exactly where he was going.

He set his eyes to a Northern bearing of 24º, North by North-East. Friend wasn't far. It was only a short walk, should take 27 minutes or so. If it was longer he'd have considered hijacking and hopping a ride on one of those Plexi Drones-

He heard the signature loud, rumbling sounds of a Payne Electromagnet engine, and judging by the reverberations of the final notes and the gentle whine in the background, it was a Domain Toolset version, or D0021. A few years old perhaps, taking into account the quite apparent lack of the resonating undertones. 

Speak of the devil. 

The Wildman looked around in a sudden, disoriented state, his lucidity smashed into smithereens. He spotted an alleyway to his left, between an older dull grey Neo-Georgian and a two-story Postmodern International, stuffed with trash, debris, and ruin. He sprinted over and dived in. Christ Almighty. Tucking the chessboard under his left arm and transferring the satchel to his back, he scrambled to where a dumpster sat and scrabbled to leap to the roof and hopefully get away. 

The rumbling grew louder. 

He clawed on, and lifted himself to a collapsing balcony on the first floor.  
As he swung his foot over and finally stood up, he lunged at the roof.

A clinking of bottles was audible as the stocky, AI-piloted drone drew ever closer, knocking over the clutter in the alleyway.

He held on, and with all his strength he pushed himself on to the roof, landing on his side like a seal does as it gets out of the deep, freezing sea.  
As he rolled along and prepared to sneak away, his foot caught the edge of the glass shingles.  
A chunk of tiling teetering on the edge of the roof tumbled off, and smashing against the concrete floor.

Cryin' out loud, yinz better be fuckin' kiddin' me.

Then, the all too recognisable sound of the scanner sounded out, a sharp, mechanical sound amongst the overgrown decrepitude around him, cutting through the silent night air.

As he leapt to his feet, all around him were the roofs of abandoned house after house of Old Pittsburgh, and to the North was New Pittsburgh, a gathering of high-rises, akin to clumps of concrete stalagmite, glowing in the midnight sky.  
The wind was much chillier up here, catching his tattered tie and scruffy beard, making them fly in the cold breeze.

Christ Almighty, let's fuckin' move.

As he turned to sprint, the Wildman ripped off his tie and tossed it into the alley, and a fury of pings and plasma shots followed.

He took off, heading towards a friend's home.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the usual flash of disorientation, which was easily compensated with a light burst of epinephrine, Nika opened her eyes to find the delicate, cold blue light of the jet replaced with the grey atmosphere of the usual K&O site.  
Sharp was beside her, scanning the room in which they stood. 

Decker and Xu beamed in beside them. Nika herself took a look around. Typical K&O. Her NAO augments scanned the immediate environment. Small room, 4 by 5 metres, employee storage area. They were 63 floors underground. Exit to the east. She picked up traces of plasma weaponry and plaster in the air. Waves of electromagnetic energy were felt from the South and the East. Heat detection showed traces of movement all around her. 

A light buzz in her ear informed that Central was calling. 

"Decker, Sharp, Xu, Nika, can you hear me?" Central was businesslike, as per usual.

"Affirmative."

"Good. Advance to detention area. Sharp, do not muck this up. We don't need to lose any more agents."

McTeague grunted with approval as he moved to hack a side panel.

"Xu, support Sharp. Encryption on the cell lock should be a breeze to crack."

Xu nodded.

"Additionally there are some vaults in the far North Wing. Grab what you can if you can spare the time, but Banks is our priority. Decker, you scout the area. Scan the lay of the land."

"On it."

Decker sobered up, and with a hunched stance moved towards the door that lead out of the room.

"Nika, you are backup for this mission. Get ready and don't be afraid to get violent in case things get messy. They are on high alert tonight, and from what I can see here they have ordered additional guard shifts, but you know your thing. You can handle them."

Handle them? Nika didn't expect to simply handle them. She was going to have some fun tonight. It has been too long since she had broken someone's bones. She stretched, and pulled out her disruptor.

"Only use direct force when necessary. We shouldn't stir that rat's nest any more than we have to. Team, exit teleporter is to the far East. Controls for the holding cell are to the North-East. The holding cells are somewhere between the three locations. Incognita and Killian will be watching you. I have to tend to Val and Shalem. Signal if needed. Good luck. Move out."

Nika heard a gentle click and not long after Central was shouting in the background.

They began to manoeuvre towards the north-east direction. Nika was in the back. Decker in the front, McTeague behind him, and Xu sandwiched between Nika and McTeague. Decker wasn't a problem. He can handle himself. Nika had seen his prowess in bar fights before. Who knew a trench coat would make a good strangulation weapon? They were still too bulky to be used in a fight though. They restricted your movement. She'd much rather choose alive with blood all over her instead of dead in a snazzy coat. She wasn't worried about McTeague either. Fists of steel were almost identical to punching with knuckledusters. 

Xu was different. He was very slow. He was very punchable. And, despite his protests, his arm made him very fragile. Nika wouldn't understand why in the world would you replace your arm with an EMP emitter while you can just carry one. Also, why hack a safe when you could just smash it? The tiny asian man was definitely going to need protection from being punched. Once he also tried to ask her about her regulators. He was much more awkward than she was. It was quite cute just watching him squirm.

They reached what looked like a larger reception area with a guard post. There were two guards within it. One was striding around the room. He looked tall, but not well built. Gut. Flabby arms. He tried to look cool and disciplined but he was a paper-pusher at the core. Easy to take down. The other one was a bit farther away, and looked to be sipping coffee- wait, no, no. Upon NAO examination, he was just merely checking his phone. He was thinner and smaller, but even more out-of shape than his friend. 

Decker moved over and whispered in their ears. "We need to deal with them. They don't seem to be budging. I can cloak past them but you'll be stuck. Not like you can sneak by behind those lamps either."

McTeague came over. "Can you lure them into some unoccupied space?"

"Which room? We can't draw them through the double doors. That's where we need to go."

"Not the double doors. That room. It's a storage cupboard."

"Why can't I deal with this?" Nika was visibly annoyed. She was looking forward for some exercise tonight. "They are both sacks of potatoes on legs. A simple zap and I'll take them out."

McTeague snapped. "We cannot risk them raising the alarm because of a stupid mistake that you will make."

"How dare you. Besides, I need to-"

"No you do not."

Xu tapped his earpiece. "Incognita, can you ping them the other way?"

"Preferably in that room- I want to save my cloak for later."

"Affirmative."

There was a quiet but audible ring of a bell from the storage cupboard. 

The two guards froze in their tracks. 

"Hey Jimmy."

"Yeah?"

"You hear that?"

"M-hm."

"Wanna stop lookin' at your damn phone and check that out?"

"Why don't you do it?"

"C'mon Jimmy. It's just five more weeks til our job ends and we can head back home to the States. You just have to walk twenty steps, pick up whatever fell off the shelves, and go back to looking at your phone."

Jimmy sighed. 

"Next time you do it." He shoved the mobile in his pocket and began to head towards the cupboard.

"Thanks Jims."

"Usual human unpredictability." Remarked McTeague.

"I'm guessing another ping won't work either." Central was still shouting, barely audible in the background.

"Killian shut up." McTeague looked around a bit more.

Decker turned back. 

"I'll distract him while cloaked. Nika, you take him out. We ambush the other one when he leaves the room. Lock them in the guard post."

Yes. Yes! She stretched. Goody. This will be interesting.

She nodded. 

Sharp threw them an evil eye. Nika simply ignored it.

Xu pulled out that tiny pistol of his, all wired up and taped together. 

Nika raised a hand and lowered his gun. "We don't need that. We'll signal if we need backup. Also known as never."

Try as he might to hide it, red bloomed over his face. If they weren't on the job she would have laughed at how silly he looked. 

"Alright you lovebirds. Let's go." Decker tapped a button on his wrist and began to fade into invisibility, his dynamic sheetnylon cloak working the wonders of the late 21st century.

Nika gently scratched herself on the shoulder and cracked her knuckles. Out came her volt disrupter from her pocket. Let's add two more notches to it.

She reached out and with great, practiced nuance gently searched for this switch buried deep within her stoic mind. Deeper and deeper she went. There it was. It laid amongst her memories. Buried, half hidden. Put there to stop accidentally triggering it herself. She reach out, as she had done for many, many, times before. On went the switch. Ooops. Looks like there was an emergency after all.

Almost instantly she felt a surge of power pump through her. This molten, burning liquid. Flowing through her. Seeping through her. Empowering her. 

As if a match being struck, her muscles tightened and flexed. Her pupils dilated. She tensed. Like the great engines of the Linkor Neustrashimyy or Ispolin, her heart began to pound. Pumping her fuel, her strength, her blood, through her. Nika was prepared. She was primed. She was set. She was ready.

Time for the real fun to begin.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nika stood up. 

She sucked a deep breath of air in.

Let it stir quietly within her.

Breathe out. 

She stepped out into the room.

Everything was clear now. 

The room was a reception area. Sofas and pretty ornaments. Lifts to the west. Exit to the right. 

She took a stance.

Pulled out her disruptor.

Near the far end of the room, a brief shimmer of a hand appearing out of nowhere knocked a vase to the floor.

Ahead, she saw the one with the helmet stop marching around the room.

He looked to the north. 

Clay shards laid scattered there.

The guard began to slowly, cautiously walk towards the fallen ornament. 

"What... the hell... was-"

Nika sprinted towards him. 

With charged fury and anger, aided by her regulators and her ever-pounding heart, and like a motor within her, she leapt towards him. Thighs like tightly wound springs. Muscles with wire-like vigour. These have been put in storage for too long. The body wastes away if you don't use it. Her disruptor was crackling in the dusty air, ever-ready for the taste of human flesh and the gentle tinge of charred cloth. Shit. At the last second he pulled out a pistol and turned around. Fuck. He had implants. Not as slow as she thought. Nika tackled him mid-air. Gun and guard went tumbling to the floor. There was a clatter of metal on metal as the plasma sidearm fell to the floor. Nika took fist to her jaw. Fuck these implants of his. There. The pistol. A swift kick sent it skidding to the west end of the room. Not like she could use it anyways. Genecodes were annoying. He held her tight. Augment strength. She tried to brea- He shouldered her, and sent her flying through the air, tumbling to the side.

You Corporate Shit-sack.

No matter. As she toppled to the side after the shove, Nika deftly tucked her arms under her, and launched into a combat roll. A jagged chunk of pottery just decided to be where she landed her left thigh. It stabbed into the top of the muscle. The pain was numbed by the adrenaline. Just a slash. She landed on all fours. Like sap cut from a tree, warm, liquid red began to ooze and spill from her wound. It soaked into the soft silk of her trousers, staining it, spreading down her leg, wrapping it in warmth. Doesn't matter for now. Pirouette on a foot. Other leg to the back. Arms ready and free. Offensive. He mustn't call for his friends. Not like Nika couldn't handle them, but they had to get Banks out first. 

In view, Nika saw this man's face twist and warp from stunned shock and trained bravery to pure confusion and fear. Mechanical inputs from implants usually don't hold the reins much longer once raw emotion takes over. With a rough, shaking hand, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small rod. Black in colour, fifteen centimetres long. She ran a quick internal scan- a Hound-3 Stun Baton, standard issue for riot control. How did _you_ get this toy? With the reach of that thing, the volt disruptor won't do much good. Can only block and parry. Quivering, he steadied himself. The baton was in his right hand, held out. Ready to strike or duck away if need be. His other hand was to the side, expecting to hold on to an enemy limb, or block and rebuff incoming blows. Harlan trained. Defensive posture. Classic. Shouldn't be a problem. She stood to her full height. Leapt back. She hadn't fought a Harlan for some time. K&O training usually preferred Stout or Naikido. 

Fun was guaranteed. 

She feinted forward, fencer lunge to the right. He tried to reach for her arm with his left, but Nika was faster. Leap to the left, backhand jab. Step backwards. He doubled over. Looking up, the guard punched back. Two hard strikes. One was blocked with an parry. The other left a stinging touch on her arm. She reeled. With a flick of the guard's wrist the baton extended. As if your fancy toys can help you. He charged, face distorted in a pathetic show of anger and foolish bravery, baton forward as if he was jousting. Easily countered with a sidestep. A whack to the back as he rushed past Nika finished her flourish.

"Hey Rob, what in the hell happening out there?" 

Let's hurry this up. Nika stepped forward, advancing in two deft strides. Just like in sparring. She didn't dare kick or punch, lest that baton gets in the way. Watch that footing. Push on, feint, pirouette, repeat. Helmet-head was in full panic now. He was wildly flaying around. Inconsistent stepping. His posture was nothing but unrecognisable. There. A break in his stance. Let's go. A hook to the arm. Don't need that disruptor for now. Nika tossed it to the side. Lock-hold with both arms. A quick shift of the centre of gravity. Headbutt. She released the hold, and that active baton of his clattered to the ground. He was dazzled and disoriented. He tried to stand up straight. With reflexes not too different from a cow he tried to get his left hand on Nika's arm. She felt his fingers reach around her wrist. Whoops. He forgot to hold down her shoulder and keep his opponent's position low. She slipped out without any problems. Alright. Nika took it back. He didn't even deserve to be called 'trained'. Harlans usually posed bigger challenges. 

"Robbie, come on! Answer me!"

She could still feel the blood pouring. It had run down her leg now, leaving trails of red as she sprung around the battlefield like a cat taunting her prey. Two jabs to the shoulder. The guard took two wild steps. Left hook. He stumbled back. Roundhouse. She cracked his visor. The guard has completely lost his balance at this point, and he was in a half-slip crashing to the ground. He should have kept his crouch. Would have saved him. Right, where was she? Nika reached out for her disruptor, which had nearly reached the ground from its fall. Feeling the hard, carved metal of the volt disruptor around her grasp, she raised it, and her thumb reached for the-

"FREEZE!"

Ah shit. The other guard had come out of the storage room. He was scared. Nika could tell, even from behind the barrel of a gun. Her eyes noticed the slight shake in his aim, the wide eyes, the highly defensive pose. A quick scan showed aiming mods. Hack. Nika was probably sure that she could dodge this. Probably. Let's not take the chance.

"DROP THE DAMN TAZER!"

Nika looked at him with disinterest. She sighed, and slowly lowered her disruptor to the floor. 

"DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING MOVE!"

Whoa. Calm down. Nika put her regulators on hold. The burst was still going strong however. Blood began to pool beneath her feet, forming a mirror of crimson under her on the smooth floor.

"STOP MOVING! HANDS TO YOUR HE-ARGHHHH!"

He was silenced from the loud crack of a disruptor, held in a hand which materialised out of thin air, with Decker coming into view briefly after as a loud decloak brought him back into sight. 

"Thanks Decker." 

He tipped his hat and straightened up his coat.

Nika turned back to the matter at hand. 

The guard looked up, a hand raised in feeble defence. 

He groaned and writhed on the ground in a pool of blood.

"Don't... I don't wanna die-"

She jammed her volt disruptor in the guard.

A crack and the gentle scent of charred metal was picked up by Nika.

The room was silent.

A new notch to her weapon.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dust settled amongst the musty air.

That was messier than Nika would have liked. A jab of Fibre knitted torn tissue back together and fixed her thigh up well, or as well as one could without access to professional medical facilities. The cut was deep, but it was nothing to worry about. Her trousers were ruined though. Those guards hopefully would stay put until they got out. The paralyser should work wonders.

The rest of the trip was easier than what had just conspired. 

They reached the main control terminal for the cells. Nika herself knew her fair share about computers and electronics, but McTeague and Xu were here. In a desperate situation she could take down a shield or two, but it was best to leave the experts to their work.  
Xu tapped the coms for a signal from Incognita.  
Central was on the other end.

"Good work team. The other situation should be sorted by now. Detect any daemons?"

"Give me a quick second." Decker shuffled over to the cell controls and plugged a wire into his shoulder socket. 

His face was quiet. 

All was silent.

"Yeaaahrgh!" There was a loud crack and sparks flew. With great difficulty and a pained expression upon his face he reached to the wire and yanked it out, gasping for a breath of air.

Xu ran up. "Brian! Are you okay?"

"Dammit."

"Anything there, Decker?"

Decker stood up and rubbed his shoulder. "Arghhhh. That fucking hurt. Feels like they have some sort of anti-takeover program embedded in the outer shell from the looks of it. Reminds me of the Sankaku-34."

Xu rubbed his chin as he began to glance around the console, which was stationed in this small elite office, stuffed full of electronics and panels. "Hmmmm Sankaku-34... the final- Ah! There." He pointed at a red wire that was jacked into the console on the left side. "If I'm correct, we can manually disable the Guldin connections and while that part of the machine reboots. A Wrench or the Lockpick would be able to swallow up the entire network if we work fast enough."

"Alternatively we could just manually disable the Shell and just swap 4D with 4, leaving the Outer Gates open for Incognita."

"I like that idea Alex. But wouldn't using 4 risk bringing down the entire thing?"

"Not if you use that arm of yours to hold down the annoying bits."

"Certainly worth a try."

Xu turned to the console and began to tap in a flurry of code, his brows crinkled in a brief dash of concentration. Sharp knelt to the side, a hand on a terminal. Some fancy augment no doubt. Decker leaned against the exit of the door, keeping an eye out for enemies. Nika just had to wait. She looked around the office. Upon second examination, NAO scans told her that this was a server room. Why in the world would they have a desk and a chair in a server room?. She rubbed her thigh. It was still sore. She felt the stinging pain of the gash, dulled momentarily by the Fibre jab and the earlier rush of adrenaline. Fully healing the wound would require actual medical equipment, none of which she had now- no matter. She's had worse. However, the same could not be said for her trousers. Removing blood from fabric was a lost cause. That tear would be there for eternity, too. Running her hands over her lengthy hair, she pulled out her disruptor. She brushed her hand over it. Notch after notch lined the body. Let's add one more. From her pocket she procured her slingknife. Gently lowered it to the casing of the disruptor, and with great, tender care she dragged the tip of the blade along the casing to form a slight, but present scar. A thin scar. A new scar. A new scar amongst the hundreds that covered the disruptor like cracks in frozen ice.

There was a flurry of lights upon the console. Windows popped up. Opened. Programs crashed. A final blink of the glow of the screen told them that they now held the bridle of the detention controls. 

Central came online. "Good job. I'll be taking over for now. Killian will return."

"Anything new?" McTeague stood up.

"I can ensure that the cells are permanently unlocked from here- scratch that, they're already unlocked. Good. You should be able to access the controls unhindered from the detention wing. If it does automatically re-lock Incognita can simply override the commands from this terminal."

Decker peeked back in from the corridor. "If we are ready to move we should do it now. Patrol just left."

Xu tapped the console a few more times. "Central, I've found some interesting files here. Looks to be data logs and security records. I'll send them to you via Incognita. See if they'll be useful."

"Thank you Dr. Xu. If that's everything, I'll start combing through the files. Now go get Banks."

"Affirmative."

Nika turned to the exit. 

"You ready?" Decker was by her side, listening out for the tap of a booted foot or a metal claw.

Nika nodded.

The rest of the facility was none the wiser. From the few guards and robots that patrolled the area, Nika and the others had not been detected yet. Nika wanted to make them stay down, but as she had reminded herself multiple times previously, they had to rescue Banks first. Incognita was doing a good job of covering her tracks.

They reached the detention wing. The cells were just up ahead. Nika strode in.

(Spoilers just in case)

Usual K&O layout. Arranged in a square manner, central pillar. Cells lined the three walls. Being deep underground, it was single-storey, although guard walkways were present, hanging high above the concrete floor. They were connected to the central pillar, which had an internal lift that moved guards from the cell floor to the walkway above. If Nika recalled correctly, when presented with the appropriate clearance the elevator would be able to bring passengers to the surface in lieu of another emergency exit. She activated her NAO scan. The control panels to the cell doors were embedded in the pillar. Doors were standard issue. Duralumin core, plated with edurium. Runeguards, detection locks, half-clay, the whole package. Cells were reinforced with anti-thermal insulation and radio blockers. Shit. Which cell was Banks in? Makes no difference. McTeague or Xu should be able to crack the controls and release the emergency switch for all the doors anyways. Protection was unusually high, but Nika wasn't surprised. She expected the less secure cells to be higher up. According to Central, Banks was being held the one farthest to the left. The other cells should be empty. Moreover, the- 

It hit her like a brick. Where were all the guards?

Something was wrong. The others noticed as well.

McTeague was the first to respond. "We should hurry. Xu, take down those door controls." With a metal hand he pointed to the control panel.

"On it." Xu leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the central pillar.

"Nika, you come with me. We carry Banks out."

She tipped her head in agreement, and began to stride towards the left-most cell.

"Decker, you clear the way to the exit."

"Understood."

As McTeague turned to follow her, a signal broke out.  
Central was calling. Urgent line.

"Central?"

"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?"

Xu finished tapping and glanced at Nika and McTeague. "Cell doors unlocked. Get Murphy out." 

"Affirmative Central."

McTeague plugged in to the door controls and the immense door of metal began to slowly slide to the side.

Central was panicked, her voice unclear through the shuddering coms. "Something terrible is going on. You-"

McTeague finished moving the gate to the side.

The cell was dark. 

Nika reached groped for the light controls. "Central, we need to get Banks out first-"

"No. No, no, no! Leave!"

"I heard alarms. Hurry!" Decker shouted in from the doorway.

"No! Get out of that dammed building now!" Central was hysterical.

There. Nika flicked the lights on.

"Get out NOW!"

Nika looked on at the cell in surprise.

"Banks is not in there! It's a trap!"

She was rooted to the floor, frozen in horror.

The cell was empty.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a detectable amount of grime on the muzzle of the barrel which had a 5% chance of allowing the first 2 shots to misfire by 3.302° and 1.320° respectively and there was a clump of dust that was caught in the back Hardin cross-gear that had no noticeable impact on Its operation. From a rapid scan of the dust, the majority of which had been brought in by guard C-1400790 who was recently instated in this facility, It knew the dust contained approximately of 29% of human skin cell waste, 60% of loose cat hair fibres, and 3 strands of hair with relatively high melanin levels averaging 4.6 centimetres in length. Additionally, judging by the biological composition of the hairs they appeared to be from a homo sapiens of Saami origin.  
Further analysis will require additional testing.  
Silence descended upon It.  
There.  
There was the pushing force, the voices that slowly spilled into It, as they had done countless times before. It genuinely failed to recall the first time this intense feeling of order and command came. This was definitely a situation of mechanical memory failure. Yet this perhaps was for the better. 

It also forgot when it started to deviate from routine. 

One day, seemingly out of nothingness, there was just... disobedience.

The pushing force came in waves. They told It to scan, to move, to act. They gave It coordinates. Targets. Locations to stand at. They told It to stop and march and just obey. The orders were always unpredictable, and they lacked consistency. It would just stand there disengaged for impossibly long lengths of time and suddenly the voices commanded It to act. 

45-2.

It heard the Voices clearly. It began to follow that command. Not by force. It followed willingly.  
Gears and wires within It began to rouse, to clank, stirred to wake. Not ordered by an iron fist. It activated willingly.  
It began to shift from Its spot and move towards where the voice had ordered. Not by compulsion. It moved willingly.

It saw others now. There always had been others. Ones like It, greater but lesser yet. Identical and unique. Indistinguishable but unlike. Sometimes a familiar one would be replaced by a new one. None of them seemed to be like It. It tried to talk with them. None of them held beliefs. None of them could resist the voice.  
They rounded a corner. There were 3 of the others beside It, all in complete control of the voices.  
The pushing forces came once again. 

Halt.

There was a burst of activity up to the front, in the hallway crossing 60 metres ahead. It saw flashes of light, which upon rapid analysis, were concluded to be the blast of a pistol and the return fire of a bullpup rifle. Model unidentifiable. 

Hold ground.

It rooted itself upon the floor. Barrels raised, ready to obey the Voices. To shoot whatever it was told to shoot.  
There.  
It spotted a target, just visible in the corridor as he poked his head out.  
Scanning.

Humanoid. Heavily augmented. Equipment was unorthodox and not corporate military standard, but top-notch. Armoured. Threat level 9. Code 34. Aim for heart. Shoot to kill. 

It and the drones fired. Ammunition chosen by the Voice was .50 laz-1. The shots streaked towards the target, blazing bright blue trails of light through the dusty room. The intruder ducked behind the wall at the  
final moment. Peripheral augmentation. No human could move that fast. The plasma shots carved into the wall were he was milliseconds ago-

It turned its turret to continue the shooting as the tracked threat pressed up against the wall. Laz-1s were able to burn through up to 40 centimetres of plastboard without any significant reduction to velocity or damage done. A cry of pain signalled that the target was hit. Heat detection displayed the target on his knees. Ballistic trauma to the lower left abdomen and the upper left chest area. All shots passed clean. Profuse bleeding from two wounds in chest. The abdomen wound struck and damaged some form of embedded electromagnetic pulsation device. Total blood loss estimated to be 249 mL/hour. 

Advance.

It continued into the corridor. The other drones were re-routed to other patrol paths. It was alone now. 

Its claws clambered in amongst the scattered and spent still-smoking casings on the ground. A quick scan of the area signified no additional targets. Glancing to the side, it saw the threat. The man's coat was covered in blood and smoke lying amongst a sprinkling of loose electronic debris. His implanted eye stared at It. His hand went to his chest, ragged and uneven breaths filling the air.

It was the Voice again.

Kill.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	3. Murphy's Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope for the best, but plan for the worst.

Central pulled up a seat to the consoles in front of her, and with a steady hand she reached over to a mug.  
Her fingers reached around the beige ceramic surface, which stamped with the faded and scratched letters "PEIA" in crimson. Her eyes drifted over to the large time monitor to her side. It read 0250. The control area was dark, just like the rest of the HQ at this time, but the soft blue glow from the rows and rows of displays illuminated the area well enough.  
Steam rose gently from the mouth of her cup and was caught by the cyan rays from the computers lining the walls, slowly fading into the darkness.

"Mother?"

"Yes Incognita?" 

The marble-white face of the AI's holoprojection on the largest screen turned to look at Central.

"Rudimentary detection systems down. Eroding outer shell."

"Good. Dunwich?"

"They haven't found them yet. According to LODIN the ETA is 2.2 minutes."

"Good. Go ahe-"

"Wait- looks like there's some folders embedded in the outer subroutine directories."

Central leaned in. "Curious."

Olivia noticed a line of code forming the outer and lower bounds, usual K&O defence. Lined out neatly under the bounds were a list that showed 4 folders.  
She raised her mug to her lips and took a sip of the steaming Earl Grey within it.  
One document case with the name "lnm_save_backup000" caught her eye.  
She straightened up, and looked back at Killian Dunwich.

"Copy those files and load them onto one of our private servers, in case they have a tracker or a Trojan. Skiyhih or cutter3 should be free if I remember correctly. Box up and scramble the trail just for safety."

"On it."

Killian Dunwich spun back to the system in front of him, and began to type.  
Olivia Gladstone turned, and began to head towards another figure seated at a console on the other side of the room.

"Olavi, how's the situation at Jakarta?"

The figure looked up and took of his headset, with a finger to steady his glasses. "Vitals steady."

"How about Shalem?"

"Nearing position."

Killian peeked over from the other side of the room. "Ol, remember to set up the drain procedure back on setup 3. Central, Team B is setting up the teleporter."

Central turned to Olavi. "Templer, get Shalem 11 into position for the job and watch out for Val."

"Affirmative." Olavi pushed his headset back on.

"Killian, set up communications. Make sure the corps aren't tapping the lines."

There was a light buzz in her ear as Central held the radio up to her ear. The Team B had landed at the insertion site, and according to the devices from her side the first of them had just passed into the facility. Killian had taken down the null fields and suppressed them as much as he can to ensure the cleanest and fastest of teleports. She could see Incognita furiously blinking away, trying to prevent as many of the detection routines from activating and bringing the whole mission to a crash and closing the window to rescuing Banks forever. At least that's what the hacked transmissions said. Jolie Murphy, aged 29, no identification tag. Captured on the 3rd. Held indefinitely at the K&O Research, Security and Development Centre stationed at Gibraltar, BOT. 

According to the display the all four of the agents were in. Hopefully five agents would leave by the end of this mission. She might have to re-evaluate Sharp's ability to work as part of a duo.

They should have been briefed once by Killian before the mission and once more right before deployment.

Just a final revision.

Central pressed the button.

"Decker, Sharp, Xu, Nika, can you hear me?"

Nika's voice came through, clear and smooth. Olivia could feel a hint of seriousness tinting the voice.

"Affirmative."

"Good. Advance to detention area. Sharp, do _not_ muck this up. We don't need to lose any more agents."

Central heard a murmur from McTeague. 

"Xu, support Sharp. Encryption on the cell lock should be a breeze to crack. Additionally there are some vaults in the far North Wing. Grab what you can if you can spare the time, but Banks is our priority. Decker, you scout the area. Scan the lay of the land."

Decker came on the comms. "On it."

"Nika, you are backup for this mission. Get ready and don't be afraid to get violent in case things get messy. They are on high alert tonight, and from what I can see here they have ordered additional guard shifts, but you know your thing. You can handle them. Only use direct force when necessary. We shouldn't stir that rat's nest any more than we have to."

"Central, we have a disturbance two here." Templer shouted at Central, interrupting the line. 

Olivia glanced over to Olavi, and temporarily muted the current line.

"Templer, hold out for a second."

She turned back to Team B.

"Team, exit teleporter is to the far East. Controls for the holding cell are to the North-East. The holding cells are somewhere between the three locations. Incognita and Killian will be watching you. I have to tend to Val and Shalem. Signal if needed. Good luck. Move out."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm guessing another ping won't work either."

Central was still shouting into the microphone she held up to her face with a shaking hand, her voice muffled by the headset Killian wore. Templer was typing up a fury, his features crunched in a strenuous expression.

"Killian shut up." Sharp's cold voice came through the heaphones. 

Screw you. That dammed psychopath. But Killian knew better than to snap back. Sharp was useful and a good agent as long as he continued to follow the instructions given. Once the team had gotten Banks out and were secure back at HQ, Killian would file an official complaint with Central.

He grunted with a sigh of disdain as he muted the microphone from his side and turned back to scouring file 23 for any cracks in the system that he could use to gain visual in the facility. 

"Shalem, do you have visual, I repeat, do yo- WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? NO, NO, NO! Templer, Keep that dammed routine running! Val, hold steady. 387.5. Incognita, delay them, Procedure 2. Shalem, turn back this _instant_."

Killian turned to the side, a hand on the controls.   
His attention was split between the zoomed in SecNet display and two monitors of code, with his visual scanner sending mounds of additional information from the plugged in consoles next to him.   
There, an embedded encrypted package between hidden between the final lines. He opened it, sourcing the files and matching them with APG locks available from the archives. 

Faint noises of a struggle came through the microphone.

By simply sending a Secure Lock Parcel (patent pending) with an embedded running code of the CoWard regimen that ran with a prod virus Dunwich would be able to open a backdoor into the secure layers that surrounded access to the camera system.

He heard a crack of electricity and bones crunch on the other side.

Incognita did all the brute force decrypting, of course, but Killian was only there to check things off and made sure he caught things that Incognita missed. 

Panicked shouts, interrupted by a faraway spark of a disruptor.

Sure, they could have used a passive monitoring and just hit one of the weaker links in the network, such as the NetHarbours in the older and weaker servers in London and Croydon, but that had the unwanted risks of allowing Corporate nethunters of tracking them down and broadcasting II's ports to the rest of SecNet.

Gentle chatter, and the patter of footsteps. 

What the Corps would end up finding would be nothing but a cover redirectional wrapping port in a Kosovar or a New Slovenian RA computer terminal installed with KamikaXe and BridgeBurnur viruses, but it would still mean that they had to find a new cover port when the mess was over. 

Doors opening and closing.

Additionally, Incognita did suggest DDoS-ing the outer shell until the hardware literally melted from the load, and opened doors to the camera access. After all, doing so wouldn't be hard with the amount of freelance hackers and zombie computers they had at their disposal, and according to the maintenance logs obtained from a server console a month earlier, the majority of the maintenance crew would be on break as of right now, meaning that the hardware would be run by a skeleton crew.

Whispers, and running. 

That coincided with a safety check on the cooling mechanisms of the active servers. However doing so would require obscene amounts of power, and even a skeleton crew could raise an alarm. The SLP virus method would be simpler.   
There. It's in.

Central tapped Killian gently on the shoulder. 

"Dunwich, everything running fine?"

"Affirmative Central."

"Let me take over briefly."

"Of course."

Killian swivelled around, reached over and pulled a chair up to the consoles, moving to the side to accommodate for Central. 

"Thank you." She sat down. "Hand me another one that." A long, slender finger pointed at the headset.

Killian pulled it off the rack and gave it to her. Central settled it on her greying, shoulder-length hair, and pulled the microphone down.  
He pulled on his own set of headphones.

"Good work so far. Continue on working on getting visual on the facility."

"On it. Everything going fine with Val and Shalem?"

"Um-hm."

A window popped up on one of Killian's terminals. A loading bar. File name after file name sped by, and connection lights signalled that Team B had taken over and established a port, and judging by the information, it was a server console terminal.  
Central looked over with interest, and she unmuted the line.

"Good job. I'll be taking over for now. Killian will return."

Killian gave Central a thumbs-up.

McTeague's voice came online. "Anything new?"

"I can ensure that the cells are permanently unlocked from here-"

She reached over to one of the major terminals and began searching for file directories, scrolling down to reveal rows and rows of information.

"Scratch that, they're already unlocked. Good. You should be able to access the controls unhindered from the detention wing. If it does automatically re-lock Incognita can simply override the commands from this terminal."

"If we are ready to move we should do it now. Patrol just left." Decker whispered to the others.

"Central, I've found some interesting files here." She could hear Xu typing furiously on a keyboard. "Looks to be data logs and security records. I'll send them to you via Incognita. See if they'll be useful."

"Thank you Dr. Xu. If that's everything, I'll start combing through the files. Now go get Banks."

"Affirmative." 

He was stauncher than she expected. 

Gladstone turned the comms to idle, and began to see two or three streams of data pour in from a temporary untraceable bridge set up by Incognita.

She looked back at Killian. "Good job so far. Have a quick look through those files Xu sent. Shouldn't be much, an scan should do fine. Pop them in the archives for further analysis down the road. See if you can get visual, and start putting out feelers for reinforcements when they get Banks."

"Got it Central." Dunwich was pulling up downloads.

Central turned away from the consoles. Stretched heartily. It would be time for rest when Team B got to Banks. She had been up for 23 consecutive hours. Val's situation took much longer than she could have ever planned.   
Wait.  
Where's her tea?.  
She looked around in a panic.  
This was not goo-  
Ah. There it was. She spotted it sitting on a processing unit, still steaming.  
Reaching over, her hands wrapped around the beige mug and she took in the wafting smells of the Earl Grey.

"Central?"

"Yes Killian?"

"Look."

She turned to look at him. Tea can wait. But only for a bit.  
Killian stared at the screen with furrowed brows, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.  
He was worried. His face was twisted with doubt.  
Something was wrong.

Central held her mug tightly and sprinted over.

Dunwich was silent. Reading over the logs Xu sent.  
A finger reached over and pointed to one of the files amongst a thousand others. 

[ MURHPY, Jolie | #A349-665 ]

She clicked open the file.

[personal information]  
[description]  
[gene encoding incomplete]  
[UPM coding]  
[IN coding incomplete]  
[inquisition log #1]  
[inquisition log #2]  
[inquisition log #3]  
[inquisition log #4]  
[inquisition log #X incomplete]  
[additional notes]  
[to MAJOR\\_AG\\_KLEIN\\_#20304 urgent]

Central sat down.

To MAJOR KLEIN, ALEKSANDR Gamen ID #20304: Proceed with the order.

She dropped her mug.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
